Bad Luck Bob In Honolulu, 1941.
This is a story for adult men. It depicts gay sex. If this offends or bothers you, DO NOT READ IT. It is a fantasy and is not a sex manual, or a discussion of safe sex. If you have, comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com
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I am a guy who aspires to having bad luck. I would be lucky to have just plain old bad luck. I was in Honolulu rehearsing to play Polonius in Hamlet in the Tropic Sky Theater. The play was to open December 9, 1941. I had barely enough cash to get to Honolulu in time for the play to be canceled. I didn't have enough money to get back to San Francisco, or to pay for my hotel room. I tried to talk to the hotel proprietor but had no luck. He was getting ready to raise his rates in anticipation for the flood of new war-related visitors. He was a true patriot. As I left the building with my suitcase I ran into Dicky Dickerson, the man who was to have played Cornelius in the play. He was returning to the safety of the mainland.
Dicky and I had some fun together a week earlier. That interlude was mostly due to too much whisky, but it had been fun. I told him of my situation. He told me that he had a job that was now open. He had been the manager of the South Seas Beach Club. It wasn't a club and it wasn't on the beach, but it provided rest and relaxation for over stressed men. Its employees were all male and the club provided massages, a pool and steam baths for discerning men.
Dicky told me that if I wanted to be the host and manager, the position was open. It didn't pay much but room and board were free. I asked myself if I had sunk so low that I would manage a male massage parlor. I looked deep into my heart and realized that answer was yes. The combination of Japanese bombs and being trapped on an island thousands of miles from home left me desperate.
He had a car and we drove to a little developed area in the city. We drove though gates and a jungle like yard to a Mexican style hacienda. The Beach Club needed a pretentious manger who would give a veneer of respectability to the club. First time visitors were impressed. It catered to men who shared a common sexual interest. Two of the club's regular patrons were the commissioner of police and a judge. There were no immediate neighbors and there was no rowdiness. It was a safe place to play.
Dicky introduced me to the general manager, Buck Mustang and then left to catch the ship to the mainland. Buck ran the place and clearly was not a member of the upper class. He was businesslike and showed me around the club. Buck was direct and explained the euphemisms used to cover the Club's true purpose. There was an entrance fee and a price list. Everything had a price attached. I asked if that included me. He told me that depended on me and customer's needs.
There were massages, which were basic, stress relief i.e. blowjobs, and deep massages, i.e. fucking. There was a price for the steam room with allowed fellowship with other members and another price for steam room with a club attendant. There was a fee if the attendant got you off, and a higher fee if you got him off. There was a dollar off if you took a member's or attendant's load in the mouth or ass. Buck liked to keep cleanup to a minimum.
Private rooms were more expensive, the pool and steam room were less expensive since the guests were essentially part of the entertainment. The most expensive service was a private room with in-depth penetration. Some members were exhibitionists and they were not charged since this was entertaining and less expensive than hiring "attendants."
Buck and his pal Moose took care of any problems. No drunks were allowed. We served drinks, but they were carefully rationed. Membership was by members' recommendations and word of mouth. Buck selected the attendants. Some were not to the manor born, but they shared our members' sexual interests and drives. Buck was openminded and we had Black, South American, Polynesian and Oriental attendants. Our members seemed to like exotic men. He even included some Southern Rednecks and a former Bronx taxi driver to even things out.
There were three types of attendants. Some were plain, old fashioned libertines. There were men who were down on their luck and needed the cash. I was in that group. Eventually I discovered these were old-fashioned libertines who couldn't admit it to themselves. There were also missionaries, whose goal was to rescue men from their sex less lives.
I was surprised and shocked at how easily I adapted to the club and its eccentricities. I was not exactly a virgin. I had been in the Merchant Marine in World War I was lucky that the ship I was on was so unimpressive it wasn't worth a torpedo. On the ship, I bunked with the first mate, Tolley. He was an older, ugly coot, who knew the ship forward and backward and was a nice guy. He had the sex dive of a teenager. While I should have been shocked, the first time I sucked his cock I knew this was for me.
He could tell I was into it and introduced me to the other men who had the same inclination. That included most of the ship's crew and the Captain. He and Tolley discovered I had one special skill. My ass could accommodate two erect cocks. They had never shared an ass before and loved rubbing their tools together in my tight hole.
Later I had a job as a steward on a passenger liner. Some of the crew did a comedy routine as part of the entertainment. I did well and a Broadway producer hired me for a character role in a play. Thus, began my acting career. Fifteen years later I was in Honolulu, broke and managing a club.
Living in Honolulu after the attack was high stress. The war dominated everything. A visit to the Beach Club for release and exchange of your manly fluids was a relief. High intensity pleasure took the edge off the war worries. Somehow, officers and enlisted men knew of the club. Buck seemed to know needy men. The club was often the last stop before men boarded ships and transports for the battles in the Pacific.
Buck liked me. I had played enough butlers and snobby aristocrats to impress the guests that the Club was more than it was. I remember faces and names and I am unflappable in most situations. We didn't use standard servants' uniforms. We worked in Hawaiian shirts and shorts. For a forty-five-year-old guy I was in good shape. A year earlier I had played a boxer in a play and got in shape for that. Of course, I was cast as the losing boxer.
I took me a day to understand that everyone was for sale at the South Seas Beach Club. That included the janitors and the managers. I discovered something terrible about myself. While I was shocked, my cock began to firm up at the tawdriness of the place. I did know enough about myself that in the battle between my morals and my cock, my morals were sadly outmatched.
Five men rotated greeting members. Buck and I were officially in charge, Chan, Tiki, and Whiskers served as necessary. We told members the Chan was Charlie Chan's oldest son. He was 35 years old. Tiki was a native Hawaiian muscle man in his later 20s and Whiskers was sixtyish. He had been a doctor but had a problem with demon rum. He was off the sauce now and checked the health of our members.
Officially we had 12-hour shifts, but with five men we could take breaks easily. Part of our duty was to wander through the club and make sure things were okay. We didn't want to seem like hall monitors, so we did much of our wandering nude. If I found a guy sitting alone in a corner of the locker or steam room, I would go to them and talk. I might rearrange my equipment and he would take a few licks. I rarely shot off, but the guy was happy. We were informally available to serve as attendants, but at a premium price. That was up to us if a guy struck our fancy or was particularly interested.
The members had real names, but most used a pseudonym. These were often related to the man. Thus, Custer was an army officer, Nelson was naval man. My first experience was with Dewey. He was an elderly, retired Naval officer. It was understood our services were parts of the Club's basic service up to but not including orgasms. Companionship and titillation were free, but sperm was a valuable product. Dewey liked to suck and that was fine with me. He liked to suck and didn't care if I was soft or erect. It was all good for him.
Nelson was a handsome, over stressed, middle-aged officer. He was deeply involved in the war, and he couldn't sleep. An interlude at the Club solved his sleep problem. He claimed his wife was on the mainland and he came to the club only to relax. I knew better than that, but I never said anything.
Everything about him was hard, official and ship-shape, except for his man parts. They were oversized and ready to explode. Nelson was all business; his cock wanted to party. He selected me because I was the manager and therefore nearer to him in rank. The experience was odd and almost surreal.
The only way I got to know Nelson was by exploring his cock. He didn't talk and had the personality of a rock. His cock twitched, jerked and oozed. We first met when we went to corner of the steam room at 4:00 in the morning. I sucked his foreskin first. When my tongue pushed through the thick skin, I licked the top of his cock head. He shivered, and I went to his balls. I alternated between cockhead and balls until he was on the edge.
"Nelson, do you think you could shoot every drop of sperm in your balls into my mouth?" I asked him in a whisper. He nodded. As my tongue returned to his bloated knob, one of my fingers strayed and touched his puckered hole. His cock all but exploded, spewing his cum into my mouth. I know it only took a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity.
He was quiet for a minute or two as I sucked the last of his load.
"That was good," he said. "Better than it has ever been before."
"I am pretty sure I can make it even better if you come back to see us again," I said. He got up and left. A young guy came in as Nelson left. He was in his early 20s and all but hairless. When he came closer. I could see he was well built, but the pale skin and slightly pink nipples made him look delicate. He sat next to me.
"I'm Billy. Are you the guy from the front desk?" I said yes.
"I had a good time the last time I was here," he said. "It was new to me, but it was fun. I was wondering if something more heavy duty would be more fun?"
"What did you do the first time?" I asked.
"A man sucked me. I knew that would be good, but when I sucked him, it was even better," he said.
"Did you expect that?"
"Not at all. Guys were doing other things I might like to try," he said. Just them Chan came in and said I was needed at the desk, so I left Billy in Chan's capable hands.
I greeted the early bird crowd until 10:00 and the went to bed. I lived in the manager's apartment. It was big, comfortable and had wide verandas sheltering it from the sun. Usually Whiskers shared it with me; he had a cot. His battle with demon rum was a problem, and he was much better when he was away from temptation. He was usually nude and always willing.
I was back at the main entrance by 4:00PM to receive the afternoon rush. We had four masseurs on duty and six attendants. Attendants either needed the money or were sex maniacs. I suspected most were both. Today two older attendants, Willard and Gill, were available. Willard was forty, and a retired cop. Gill had been a master sergeant in the army. They were in much demand.
Gill liked complete obedience and once he had achieved that he could be affectionate. He was hard to please, but once you had satisfied him, you discovered that while his hole was tight his rectum was warm and welcoming.
Willard was horse hung and you had to prove to him you could take his cock like a man. It took a lot of work to take his tool and if you were wealthy enough, he would breed you and make you part of his harem. Sometimes men would come to the club with their boys to worship at the cock of the master. Everyone knew Willard's fantasies and played along. Whiskers had to examine the boys to make sure their holes could take the master's cock. That was all fantasy. The boys were usually twenty-fie thirty to forty-year-old men trying to please their sugar daddies.
Since the nation was at war, I had thought the supply of attendants would dry up. That didn't happen. Of course, some of our attendants were in the forces. They encountered like spirits in the forces and brought them to the Club. If they had a leave they would come by, relax and make some money. Uncle Sam was not that generous. They also found men who wanted to have some experiences before the went off to fight. Other men wanted last fling before they went to sea. They were all welcome.
I discovered my view of human nature was incomplete. Some men were writing letters home or going to church before a deployment. A surprising number of men who liked men did what they had always wanted to do but were too timid to do it. An afternoon at the steam room and the showers could fill in a lot of gaps in your life even if it drained your balls.
We had members who recognized the needy types and brought them to the Club. We had a rule that all customers deserved good treatment, and they should leave with a smile or at least a contented glow. I talked with Martin, one of the first attendants hired by the club. He liked ugly and ungainly men. Martin was handsome and they wanted to please him.
Martin was a guide for many of the attendants. He told them to remember when you are sucking a guy, it doesn't matter what his face looks like. A tight and willing ass is more important to your physical pleasure than a slim body. I followed his advice too.
The Commissioner of Police who went by the name of Jupiter, liked me. You might think that a person's rank determined your preferred sexual activities. Sex doesn't work like that. Jupiter was a high-ranking official, but he loved the bottom. This embarrassed him. As a manager he considered me to have elevated status and thus he could open his ass for me without demeaning himself.
That was crazy, but it worked for him, and he was a good man for the Club. Jupiter was built like a football tackle who had gone to seed. You could tell he had been handsome when he was younger. I wasn't interested in him at all, but I figured I would take one for the team. My cock is above slightly bigger than average.
It turned out to be a perfect fit for Jupiter. I hit all the right places in his ass and that changed his personality. He was pleasant and almost boyish as I gently thrust into him. My cock in his ass made him a nice guy. Jupiter was a regular at the club and he sometimes brought guests. Some of these were cops.
He asked me to help these men. He said they were up tight and needed to mellow and relax. At the club getting mellow and relaxing involved erections and fluid exchange. To say these men were tense and uneasy understates the case. In most cases a Commissioner approved blow job and orgasm solved the worst of the tenseness.
They were afraid of being caught, humiliates and fired. They new there were friends in the department. My own sexual interest played a role. I admit to having a taste for sperm. What I referred to as swallowing the evidence and hiding the evidence where the sun doesn't shine made sense to them. I also explained it was good to suck for a while after the orgasm so there was no cock drool. I told them to good deep when the were ready to shoot in my ass. there would be less chance of cum drool form my ass. I can be the helpful homemaker when it comes to sex. I didn't tell them that after they left, Buck fucked me. He liked cop cream as lubricant.
I discovered something new about me as I fucked Jupiter. I can't just fuck a piece of meat. Once I pushed past the sphincter, the meat turns into a man. My favorite organ had entered a man's most private, intimate place. Maybe my cock makes friends easily. I didn't just want to get deeper into him, I wanted to know him better.
Some of this was sexually related. Did being fucked excite him or did he feel demeaned? Did he want me to shoot off in him?"
I wondered if he would prefer sucking a spewing cock. Sucking a spurting, twitching and drooling cock excites me. Everything was a mystery about my partner except he was at the Club for man sex.
The same questions arose when I was with a muscular young marine. Danny was a country boy. His parents died when he as a child and he was raised by a bitter aunt. The Aunt had a nasty boyfriend. He was hard as nails until I sucked him. He had sucked before, but it was of the slam-bang-thank-you-ma'am variety. I don't suck a cock; I make love to it.
I think Danny' life was short on pleasant experiences not to mention affectionate ones. I took some time and worked his cock up to the orgasm. I took his load and swallowed it. That was a first for him.
"Are you mad at me?" he asked.
"You shot huge load, it was a treat," I said. He looked puzzled. I smiled. "Hey, we are guys. Yes, you can make babies with your cock, but we also can have a lot of fun with it too. You know that. I know that. Why not pool our resources?" He went back to camp with a lot to think about.
Danny vanished for four months and then reappeared. I knew a lot had happened, most of which he couldn't talk about.